


Robert

by JoHalloway



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gay Sex, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, No Beta read we die like men, This is NOT a fun fic, for a brief moment, please mind the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 10:54:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22968820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoHalloway/pseuds/JoHalloway
Summary: “Robert Bauer.” He let out a shuddery sigh and glanced up, as if worried he’d be struck dead for uttering the name. Hawkeye took his hand in his own. “It’s okay,” he whispered. Tell me about him.”Inspired by Hayloft by Mother Mother
Relationships: Father Francis Mulcahy & Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce, Father Francis Mulcahy/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	Robert

**Author's Note:**

> Just want to give a quick thanks to everyone in the discord for helping me immensely and putting up with my bullshit. <3

These decisions were always the hardest to make. The massive chest wound in the soldier laying in front of Hawkeye would have been salvageable, if not for the large tear in his aorta. This man was sure to die of a heart attack any minute, and doing surgery on both areas would take too long. If they focused on the aorta, he’d most likely bleed out. If they focused on the bullet wound, he’d die from the dissection created in his aorta. There were eight other guys that could be saved if they didn’t waste time on him. All he could do was give him something to numb the pain and hope he went quickly. “Nurse! I need 20 milligrams of morphine over here!”

A strained voice drew Hawkeye back to reality.

“Excuse me?” 

“Hey, I uh-“  _ What do you say in a situation like this? _ He thought. 

“My chest hurts real bad,” the man wheezed. 

“I know. It’ll be okay,” he said distractedly, taking the syringe from the nurse and injecting him. “Father!” He called through the window. The priest rushed over from the patient he and a nurse had been tending to in the compound. Hawkeye made his way over to meet him at the back entrance of the bus. “You should probably stand by. I gave him some morphine but the guy over there isn’t going to last much longer.” 

“Oh, I see,” Mulcahy said hesitantly. He slowly made his way over to the soldier as Hawkeye moved on to another patient. The wounded man was breathing heavily, but let out a small “John?” when he saw the father approaching. 

Mulcahy stopped short, taken aback. No one called him that anymore. John was a common name. Maybe he- 

And then it hit him. 

“Rob?!” He rushed over to the man’s side and grasped his hand. From his side of the bus, Hawkeye glanced over at the pair.  _ Oh no _ . He didn’t have time to intervene, however, and began helping to unload his current patient off the bus, before disappearing to scrub. 

The two were alone now. Most had made their way into pre-op or the OR. 

“John,” Rob breathed. He attempted to smile but it came out as a grimace. “It is you.” He pulled his hand away from Mulcahy’s to fiddle with the cross hanging around his neck. 

“So much for teaching, huh?” He slurred. “I thought we agreed to disagree with our folks on all those strict rules and rituals.” He tilted his head to the side, looking around. “Where did all the doctors go?” 

The priest tried to blink back tears and keep on a brave face, but he was starting to shake.  _ This couldn’t be happening. Why him? Why the kindest, smartest, most beautiful soul to walk the earth? _ He brushed the damp curls away from the other’s forehead cupped his face, trying to soothe him. 

Rob’s breath began to grow shorter. He had gone back to clinging on to Mulcahy’s hand. 

“You know?” He wheezed. “You still look- you still look like you did-“ He was breathing too hard and rapidly to hear the other man quickly begin to mutter the last rites. By the time it was done, Rob’s eyes had glazed over. He was gone. Mulcahy picked up a blanket from one of the other bunks and gently pulled it over the man’s head, before letting out the sob he had been holding in. 

~

It was dark by the time the surgeons trudged their way out of the OR. 

BJ rested his head on Hawkeye’s shoulder as they stumbled along. “Ugh, I could sleep for a week,” he moaned. 

“Even I must admit that session was particularly harrowing,” yawned Charles. “Please hesitate to wake me for my shift,” he added as he headed for the swamp.

“Let’s just be glad they all made it,” Hawkeye said flatly. 

“Well it’s a damn good thing they did!” Potter exclaimed. “The padre was missing the entire time! What if something had gone wrong and a kid died on the table without him present?” 

Hawkeye sighed. “Aw give him a break, colonel. There was this dying patient during triage he had to give last rites to. I think they knew each other.” The other two surgeons stopped short.

“Are you sure, Pierce?” Potter’s tone had shifted back to its usual gentleness. 

“Yeah. He looked pretty distraught. It was a bit jarring seeing him like that. Usually he's the sanest person in this madhouse, even when things get worrisome, but...” Hawkeye shrugged and looked away from the others. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look that frightened.” 

“Maybe one of us should check in on him,” BJ suggested. 

“That sounds about right. Pierce?” 

Hawkeye shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’ll go see what I can do.” 

~

He knocked on the door of Mulcahy’s quarters before poking his head through the door. 

“Father?” 

He hadn’t heard him. Hawkeye looked down to see him kneeling at his bed, muttering prayers into clasped hands. 

“Father?” He tried again, gently laying a hand on the others shoulder. Mulcahy jumped before realizing who it was. “Oh, Hawkeye! I’m sorry, you startled me,” he started. He tried to hide his face as he wiped away tears. “I want to apologize for my absence earlier today. I started feeling under the wea-“ 

“You don’t need to make excuses for me, Father, I get it.” He paused. “The blood...” 

The priest looked down at his blood-soaked hands and grew misty eyed again. “His chest... it must’ve...” he let out a choked wail. 

“Hey it’s okay, it’s okay,” Hawkeye reassured. He quickly picked up the glass of water on the nightstand, and a towel. “Here,” he said, sitting the two of them on the edge of the bed as he began to wash away the blood. 

“What happened?” 

“Hawkeye, people usually confess things to me, not the other way around.”

“So you should know better than anyone that it’s not good to bottle things up! You’re the one always putting on a brave face for everyone else’s benefit. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.” Mulcahy said nothing at first, but looked up at Hawkeye worriedly. His eyes were bloodshot from crying. “It’s a bit more complicated than all that,” he breathed. 

“I figured,” replied Hawkeye. “You two...” 

The father just bowed his head. 

“He called you John,” Hawkeye pressed. 

“I didn’t start going by Francis until I joined the clergy,” Mulcahy explained. “Rob and I... we grew up together. But the last time we saw each other was long before I became a priest.” 

“Rob?” 

“Robert Bauer.” He let out a shuddery sigh and glanced up, as if worried he’d be struck dead for uttering the name. Hawkeye took his hand in his own. “It’s okay,” he whispered. Tell me about him.” 

Mulcahy sniffed. “We both came from rather large families. Our small, rundown homes were loud and overcrowded, so we usually opted to be alone together. As kids we’d play in the creek and run through the forest, sword fighting with branches.” 

_ “Hurry up, John! The giants’ll get us!” Golden sunbeams danced among the leaves as they raced farther and farther away from reality. The scent of fall foliage was intoxicating and painted leaves left a satisfying crunch under their mud-caked sneakers.  _

He chuckled lightly at the memory before growing solemn. “But, as we got older, Rob and I started to escape to the abandoned barn across the street. We would climb up to the hayloft to read and watch the sunset.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Among other things. But one night in particular-”

_ John whimpered as he slowly lowered himself onto Robert, burying his face into the crook of the other boy’s neck as he gripped his hair. Robert took the opportunity to roll them over and set John gently in the hay beneath them. He brushed the bangs out of his face and began to work up a rhythm. Glassy blue eyes gazed up at him and a shy smile tugged at the corners of John’s mouth as his chest heaved.  _

_ Through the panting, rocking, and sloppy kisses where giggles as the two pulled hay out of each other’s hair. It was frantic, and messy, but it was theirs. John wanted to stay like this forever. Nestled away with Robert in their own little world. He wanted to _ be _ Robert’s. He could spend an eternity kissing, loving,  _ worshipping _ \-  _

_ “O- oh. John I-, I’m gonna-“ _

_ BANG! _

Tears started to well at the father’s eyes again. His lip had begun to tremble. “My father must have seen the light from the lamp we had brought with us. We had been so careless-“ 

_ The two tore away from each other, heads whipping toward the direction the warning shot had come from, outside the barn. They rustled around, trying to find their trousers.  _

_ “Johnny! You worthless piece-”  _

_ John frantically pushed Robert away from him.  _

_ “Run!”  _

_ “But what about y-“  _

_ “Scram! He’ll kill you!”  _

_ The two clambered down the ladder but before they could bolt, a large hand grasped Robert’s collar and threw him against the splintering walls.  _

_ “Dad, no! Don’t hurt him!”  _

_ John yelped as a blow came to his face, sending him spiraling towards the ground. He heard the loud crunch of his glasses breaking. When he pushed himself up and put his mangled lenses back on, the picture before him made the blood drain from his face. Robert was shoved up against the barn wall, head tilted up by the barrel of his father’s gun.  _

_ “I should put a bullet in your brain right here and now,” the man snarled. “I could see the two of you through the window. You’re lucky the whole damn town didn’t see that disgusting display you were putting on.” He pulled Robert away from the wall and pushed him towards the entrance of the barn. “Fitting you should do it here. Like animals. If I ever see you near him or anyone in my family again, I’ll kill you on the spot. Understand? Now get!” Robert looked remorsefully over to John, who was still kneeling in the dirt.  _

_ “GET!”  _

_ After Robert fled, the man turned to glare at John, who was still trying to cover himself up. “I always knew you where fucking queer,” he spat. “But I thought I could fix you. I thought you’d toughen up with boxing! I never thought you’d go as far as... as sodomy!”  _

_ A strike came to the boy’s left ear. “Are you listening to me! You’re a disgrace to this family!” Another bash to the ear. “You’re weak, and a lust-filled queer whore!” Another hit. John could feel it bleeding and everything was muffled in one ear. He felt himself being hoisted up. “You’re not my son. You haven’t been for a long time. But now you’ve really done it. I want you out of this house and out of this town by the end of the week. I don’t care where you go or what happens to you. But I’m not having some filthy sinner ruin our family’s reputation.  _

Mulcahy was sobbing freely now. He convulsed as they racked his chest and Hawkeye held him. “I never knew what became of him!” He wailed. Hawkeye held tighter and stroked his hair. “I’m so sorry, Father.” 

After a while, the priest went to wipe away at his tears and exhaled. “I had drifted from place to place for a while. That joke I once made about San Francisco wasn’t completely untrue. Some of the things I did would make even your head spin, Hawkeye. Eventually my sister got in contact with me. We’d been the closest growing up and she was worried. She informed me of my father’s passing, and that my mother would allow me to come home on the account that I-“ He let out an exasperated cry. “On the account that I atoned for my sins and joined the priesthood. I had prayed and prayed for forgiveness; I still do. Most days I feel as though I’m living a lie. But I figured-“ he took another shaky breath. “I figured I could be the figure in people’s lives that I’d wish I’d had. That I could still teach. That I could provide hope and peace of mind for those in need of it. And it keeps me from getting hurt like that again.” 

Tears began to spring to his eyes again. 

“You’d think I’d be all cried out by now!” He rasped. “I can’t stop. I-“ 

Hawkeye said nothing. There was nothing he could say. No inspiring words. No quick-witted jokes. For now, all he could do was hold his friend until the shaking subsided and he fell asleep. And then, like it always was with this place, the sun would rise, and they’d get through a new day. 


End file.
